


brooklyn baby

by grattiss12



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, calum loves michael, its all very nice, malum, michael loves calum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:27:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4233843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grattiss12/pseuds/grattiss12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>//Well my boyfriend's in the band//</p>
            </blockquote>





	brooklyn baby

Calum Hood tastes like vodka and stale promises and Michael wants to take him like a shot; wants to feel it burn down his throat and leave his head pounding in the morning. He’s all hands and Michael feels soft under the pressure of his fingers, his lips; Calum’s eyes trail over him and his stare is hard enough to bruise.

_Love it when you watch me play, baby_ , Michael’s lips make his way across Calum’s collarbone. Calum’s hands are calloused from plucking at bass strings, but they feel soft against Michael’s hips. _Love it when you dance for me, you look so pretty when you dance_ , Michael smiles and moves his hips to the pulse of distant music until Calum is pulling him away from the dimly lit hallway and towards the door.

***

_// They say I’m too young to love you, I don’t know what I need/I think I’m too cool to know you, you say I’m like the ice I freeze//_

Michael’s mother calls him once a week and he loves her too much to not answer. _Baby, come home_ , and Michael’s heart will break at the thought of it; _you’re too young to love someone like this_. Michael will love her forever, but this isn’t forever, it’s right now and Calum has a hand on his thigh. Don’t worry, he’ll tell her, it’s just for a little while, and he’ll hang up the phone and Calum will laugh and tell him he’s cold as ice.

_Warm me up then_.

***

_//Well my boyfriend's in the band//_

Calum plays bass like it’s his last chance to show the world he’s made of something more than drunken tuesday nights and calloused hands. He’s beautiful on stage; confident and desperate, he puts in everything he has; and he’s raw and exposed and Michael wants to live in that world with him. Wishes he could bottle the feeling of seeing Calum up there and swallow it down, pass it around and let everyone have a taste.

Michael catches Calum’s eye, and he sways his hips to the music. Calum will tell him he’s beautiful when the lights come on, but Michael is sure he could never compare to Calum like this.

Later, when a boy tries to get his number at the bar, Michael will shake his head; _my boyfriend’s in the band._

***

_//I think we’re like fire and water; I think we’re like the wind and sea; you’re burning up, I’m cooling down; you’re up, I’m down; you’re blind, I see//_

There are some nights when Calum burns too hot for Michael to touch. Sometimes Calum is red and bright and Michael has to squint to see him clearly; these times always taste like stale cigarettes and spearmint gum and Michael wants to spit the flavours out of his mouth.

Michael loves him deeply on these days, and wishes he could match this warmth with something besides his own coldness. He lays in bed all day instead and pretends the blankets are a good enough substitute for Calum’s arms.

When the sun comes up the next morning, Calum will be back in bed with him and Michael will melt under his touch for all the right reasons. He will try to forget that sometimes Calum’s light shines too brightly for him to see, and that it is hard to love someone so red when you are so blue.

***

_//but I’m free//_

Calum drives them up dusty desert streets with the top down and presses bruises into his neck, the way Michael’s mother used to press flowers into books when he was young.

Michael is sure that the wind in his hair is what nineteen is supposed to feel like; he looks over at Calum and revels in their youth, in the dark haired boy’s strong hands and loose lipped smiles. He is sure that this is what love is supposed to feel like. Michael kisses Calum then, and it tastes like something new; like something is different between the two of them than it was a minute ago, and Michael never wants to go back.

_He loves him, He loves him, He loves him._

***

When Michael thinks back on this age he will remember it by the feeling of the open road, and the sky above his head. He’ll think of Calum’s hands and his own bony shoulders, and how happy he is that the two met so often. He’ll think of his mother, and how she was wrong; and how nineteen is just the right age to love someone this much.

_this much, this much, this much._

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this at 1 am, there's a 92% chance this is trash


End file.
